Back at the Sun, crusty old rewrite man Jay Spry is training a pedantic eye on Jeff Price's new copy, while Haynes hovers nearby. Klebanow walks up to find what's going on, and Haynes summarizes the story for him (and us): "A sweetheart deal for a titty bar owner with a big criminal history. He sells his existing location to the city for $1.2 million, and they sell him a better piece of real estate to relocate his club five blocks west for $200,000. He clears $1 million for laying in the cut." Turns out that Fatface Rick also happens to be funneling money toward Nerese Campbell's political career. Klebanow wonders why he's only hearing about this story now; Haynes begins to tell him that they found out late, before catching himself and steering all credit to Jeff Price for uncovering the story. Because he's as saintly and selfless as Klebanow and Whitting are crass and dastardly, in case the parallels are lost on you. For all this effort, Klebanow decides to put the story on the front page -- the sweetest destination any reporter could ever dream of.

Just then, Price phones in. it appears the city council president would like a word with Gus Haynes -- and not a quote for publication, either. What she has to say is off the record. Once on the line, Campbell protests that the deal with Fatface Rick is all above board, and Haynes is willing to play along. The city needed in the property, Campbell explains, and it was in the city's interest to do business with Fatface Rick. OK, Haynes says, but why give him such a better property in exchange? And hey -- were you planning on mentioning to the rest of the council that Fatface Rick is a big campaign donor? "Where I live, $60,000 buys a lot of goodwill," Haynes says, to the amusement of the other newsroom denizens listening in on his conversation. Whatever Campbell said about that was apparently too filthy for even HBO's hardened sensibilities -- we just see Haynes' reaction. Once off the phone, he tells Templeton to keep digging into Campbell's finance records; Templeton shoots him a look like, "But this is cutting into my scheduled time to be overtly ambitious."

At another tavern, McNulty is doing the things McNulty used to do before he hooked up with Beadie. Which is awkward, since, technically speaking, he is still hooked up with Beadie -- though not for long, probably, at this rate. With Ernie K. Doe's seminal anthem of oppressive domestic life "Mother in Law" blaring over the jukebox, a clearly liquored-up McNulty excuses himself from flirting with some attractive bar bunny to check in with Beadie. We only get his end of the conversation -- he's not drunk, he swears! -- but it's clear that Beadie ain't buying what he's selling.